


It's Just A Cold...

by Sparklez112



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chandlmara - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, News Reporter Duke, Protective Chandler, Sick McNamara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 02:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15329325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparklez112/pseuds/Sparklez112
Summary: Mac is sick and doesn't think it's that big of a deal. Chandler cares for her in her own way, which is definitely unique to say the least.





	It's Just A Cold...

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first time posting on this site, and writing fanfic in a while. I watched an animatic a few months ago and have fallen into the inescapable hole that is Heathers the Musical ever since. Right now I'm a huge Chandlmara shipper and I wanted to add some of my own work to the community. Your feedback is encouraged and appreciated, please let me know how I can make my writing more deserving of this ship lol. Enjoy!

"Babe, you sound worse then a dead person who's contracted mono."

McNamara let out a little giggle in response to her girlfriend's remark, but it came out as more of a wheeze because of how she was straining her voice. "Weird, I didn't notice."

Chandler watched as the blonde completely missed giving her a usual morning kiss, and lazily pilled a pancake onto her plate. She contemplated asking if something was wrong, but didn't want to pry assuming that if she wanted to say something she would have already. She plopped her own pancake onto a plate, and took a seat next to her.

By the time Chandler had finished her plate, Mac was still taking painfully slow bites of her food which was unlike her usual self. Pancakes were one of her favorite breakfast meals for Christ's sake. But Mac's facade came crashing down when she sneezed, followed with a short fit of coughing. 

"Angel, you're sick?" Chandler frowned a little, quickly reaching for the box of tissues on top of the fridge and placing it next to her girlfriend. A flustered Mac waved her hand nonchalantly, "It's just a cold, sweets. It's not a big deal."

"You should go back to bed. You can turn on a movie, I'll find you some med-"

The former cheerleader shook her head meekly. "It's only a cold. I'll be fine, everyone gets colds once in a while. Besides, I have things to do today and I can't spend it all watching Disney movies as great as that sounds. Just promise not to make a big deal out of it, okay?"

"You should have thought of that before you started dating the most extra person in the world."

"And you know I love that about you. Why don't you take today to focus on yourself? Aren't you going to see Duke later?"

Chandler placed her hands on her hips and quirked an eyebrow. "Is that what this is about? You're worried that I'm too busy with DUKE? Because trust me, I'd take you coughing in my ear all day over listening to her shove the fact that she's a news reporter down my throat."

"It's not only about that," The blonde pushed around a piece of pancake with her fork, not meeting her partner's eyes. "I feel like you've been doing a lot lately... like making breakfast everyday, for example."

"Maybe I just don't want you setting the toaster on fire again."

"Hey, that was one time! And I put it out right away while you stood in the doorway laughing at me!"

Heather smirked, recalling the memory being recounted to her. It quickly faded when McNamara dissolved into another coughing fit as a result of raising her voice.

The younger girl dropped her fork in favour of nervously twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. "It just... doesn't have to be about me all the time. You go do whatever you were going to do today. I can handle myself."

Though Chandler kept her body language from showing it, she hung onto every word her girlfriend was saying. Honestly, she felt a little worried by the way she was wording things. 'It doesn't have to be about me all the time' was what confused her the most, since McNamara was never one to be in the center of attention or even particularly enjoy it when she was. She also seemed to be pushing her away, which hurt a little but as hard as it would be to give the sick girl some space she would try if that's what she wanted.

"You promise you'll let me know if you need anything?"

McNamara nodded, her face brightening a small bit. "Thanks, Heather. I ... it really means a lot."

She quickly disposed of the rest of her uneaten breakfast, piling the box of tissues along with her laptop in her arms before heading into the living room.

Lost in thought as her girlfriend left the room, Chandler's eyes slowly trailed over to the kettle.  
She sighed. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

_Shining bright like… like… the glow of a lantern???_

Frustrated, McNamara deleted whatever she was trying to write along with the last paragraph. Creative writing was never her strong suit, with Duke being more proficient in that field. The arts college she had been excepted into focused on making 'Well-rounded young artists' which meant there was no way she was getting out of writing poetry either way. Her dance and singing classes took priority, which was why she procrastinated it until that Sunday.

And then she woke up sick. You can see how well that worked out.

Feeling the need to sneeze, she reached for a Kleenex placed on the coffee table and held it up to her nose.  
At least being sick gave her an excuse to take a break once and awhile. 

Soon after she continued her writing, Chandler entered the room. She had changed out of her night robe and into a formal red blazer, a grey shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt. Her auburn hair had been washed but not styled yet, resting on her shoulders being let to air dry. Her nails were done a glossy red with a charcoal cleansing mask applied to her face. 

"How's it going?" She asked, lounging onto the living room recliner. She took a sip from a mug she was holding.

The blonde scrunched her nose. "Remind me why I'm in art school again?"

"Please. You come home beaming after every acro class or singing lesson. Plus, it'll look great on your resume when you do decide to pursue something. Just power through the writing."

McNamara bit her lip. "Okay... Okay. You're right."

"I know. Always am." Chandler gave a playful wink.

Her girlfriend rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the computer screen. She continued to write lines of poetry, deleting and re-wording a few in an attempt to make it better (or at least not absolutely abysmal). She was drawn back to reality by loud sipping noises coming from across the room. 

"What are you drinking?" McNamara asked, curiously looking over at the redhead.

"Lemon tea. Figured I should try to relax before I go to talk to Duke, maybe it'll spare me the headache."

"I know underneath all of that complaining you're really excited. Anyways, I didn't think you liked lemon-flavoured things."

Heather scoffed. "Well that'll happen when a dochey football player dares you to eat a whole one! It's not so bad once you add sweetener. Pretty good, actually." She took a large swig as if to demonstrate her point. 

The blonde side-eyed the mug, the grogginess of her throat becoming more apparent. "Is there any left?"

"Of course. I can grab you some while you work on your schoolwork if you want."

"No-" McNamara lifted her desktop, removing it from her lap. "No. I can get it myself." She slowly pulled herself off of the couch and headed in the direction of the kitchen. Once her girlfriend left the room, Chandler couldn't stop her face from contorting into a pucker. Nonetheless, she was happy that she could at least do something small for her girlfriend before leaving. Even if she insisted on getting the drink herself.

Re-entering the living room, Mac happily sipped at her tea. She let out a small sneeze which sounded more kitten-like then human. Chandler smirked. "Even when you're sick, you can't help but be adorable can you?"

A smile tugged at the blonde's lips. "Shut up, Heather."

"Oh?" The redhead drawled, turning her body to face Mac. " _And_ you're hot when you're angry."

"You know, you're really hard to take seriously with that mask on your face."

"Then why are you blushing?"

The pink on McNamara's cheeks deepened to a red. Willing herself not to start laughing like a love-struck idiot, she continued to work on her school assignment. Chandler left the room, knowing that she had accomplished what she set out to do. And getting Mac to blush was a sweet bonus.

She took a second to dump the rest of the lemon tea in her mug down the kitchen sink drain before heading upstairs.

* * *

"I'm leaving now, I better not find you high on cough medicine when I get back-"

Heather peered into the living room, her hair curled perfectly down her shoulders with no strands out of place. Her makeup was done and she was holding a clutch purse.

She stopped talking once she took notice of her girlfriend's shut eyes and heavy breathing from on the couch. Her laptop was still sitting on her waist, a hand sprawled on top of the keyboard. Her mug was empty on the coffee table.

She silently inched closer to the couch. Upon closer inspection, the document that Heather was doing her writing on was being spammed with the letter 'm' because of the way her finger was touching the keys.

Chuckling, Chandler carefully slid the sleeping girl's hand off of the surface and removed the computer from her body. Mac stirred a little, wedging herself into the couch more but didn't wake up. 

Chandler carried the device over to an outlet and plugged it in. She got to work deleting the 47 pages full of m's that Heather had left. Once she finished, her eyes couldn't help but trail over to the actual poem... well, she may have helped by scrolling up.

_The Stars  
By: Heather McNamara_

_The stars shine bright in the dark of the night._

_They lead the way when I'm lost_  
_They glimmer eternally_  
_They give me hope._

_The stars are always there when I need them to be._

_But what have I done for the stars?_

_Sometimes the darkness engulfs the light._  
_The darkness takes my hope._  
_But the funny thing about darkness is that it's always there, in some form or another._  
_The darkness is unnatural to me._

_The darkness is normal._  
_The darkness is normal. (Sometimes it hurts-)_  
_It's normal._  
_Maybe I should just learn to walk in the darkness._

_The stars deserve the sun._  
_The sun that leads the way when lost,_  
_That glimmers eternally_  
_That gives a sense of hope._

_Could I ever be the sun?  
How can I be the sun when darkness follows me wherever I go?_

_I would love to be the sun.  
What am I?_

_If the stars don't need me, it's unfair to use the stars._  
_The stars glitter across the night sky, across the dark sky._  
_They're beautiful._  
_What did I do to deserve the stars?_

_Nothing conjk mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..._

Chandler's breath hitched a little, shocked at the writing in front of her. She glanced back at the couch, where the girl was still sleeping soundly.

Usually, concern wasn't something Heather let etch her features. She was above showing feelings that conveyed any weakness whatsoever. But after the poem and the strange way she had acted earlier in the day, Chandler couldn't help but be worried for her girlfriend. She also felt a twinge of guilt thinking that maybe she wanted to keep the poem personal.

She stepped back over to the sofa. Even with slightly paler skin and a glowing crimson nose, McNamara was still as beautiful as ever. Resisting the urge to engulf her into a hug knowing that would probably wake her up, Heather dusted the bright blonde curls away from the sleeping girl's forehead and took her temperature using the back of her hand. Her lips curled into a frown when she found she was burning up.

The redhead checked the time, noting that she was going to be very late if she didn't leave right then. She debated whether she should just stay and take care of Mac especially after learning of her mental state, but also didn't want to jeopardize the promise made earlier in the day or talk before she was ready. 

Giving a soft kiss on the sleeping girl's hairline, Chandler left the house and got into her red Porsche. She was meeting Duke at a coffee shop called Steamed a short drive away from the house. It was cozy, with inviting cream-coloured walls and lounge chairs strewn about. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling, kind of like stars...

She was broken out of her thoughts by a familiar face waving her over. Heather Duke was sitting at a table at the back of the restaurant. Her dark hair was done up in a tight bun, and was wearing a deep green blouse accented with golden buttons. Even her slim fit pants and velvet green heels were immaculate. 

Heather sauntered up to the table. "Hey, it's nice to see you again." Duke greeted, setting down her coffee when she saw her old friend approaching.

Chandler took a seat. "It's been a while, what have you been up to?"

"My careers been going really good actually. Ever since I started reporting, stations have been hiring me part time so I've been doing a lot of traveling..."

As Duke started telling a long-winded story about getting drunk with some cameramen in Louisiana, Chandler's mind began to wonder again. The thought of asking Heather about Heather crossed her mind, which surprised her because Duke was about the least sentimental person in the world.

Still, if anyone knew what was going on with Mac it would be her.

"...awesome party. Anyways, what have you been up to?"

Chandler sighed. "Nothing like the shit you've been doing lately. Just waiting to inherit the company, but you knew that already." As she spoke, Duke took the last few drinks of her coffee.

"You? The CEO? I would've never guessed," Duke replied sarcastically, "Aren't you going to get something to drink?"

"I could go forever without drinking out of a mug after today." The redhead muttered. Her friend shot her a confused look, prompting her to elaborate. "Long story. I had to choke down a glass of lemon tea so Mac would have some. Would've honestly preferred a glass of drano." 

"Heather was always a bit of a copycat, wasn't she?"

Chandler glared. "Please, like you're one to talk-"

"It was a joke, calm down." The reporter rolled her eyes, but her features softened afterwards. "You know I'm happy for you two. How is she?"

"She woke up sick this morning..." Unable to shake her worry for her girlfriend, Chandler caved and blurted: "But I honestly don't think that's all that's bothering her."

"Oh?"

"She's been distancing herself a lot. She didn't even want to admit that she was sick at first. I read a poem she was writing for homework, it seems like she's going through a lack of self esteem?" She turned to Duke for answers, who leaned back into her chair thoughtfully.

"Well... Mac's always had confidence issues." Chandler gave a confirming nod, who knew that much.  
"I remember once you told her to shut up after telling you there was a sticker on the back of your blazer. She refused to talk for the rest of the day. I don't think she was in the best place at that time... and I'm guessing by that look on your face that this is new information?"

Chandler's eyebrows furrowed. Her girlfriend never brought that up throughout all of the lengthy conversations they've had reflecting back on high school. Maybe she was distancing herself because of past memories resurfacing? But that couldn't be right, because she had teased her by using the 'Shut up, Heather' line earlier...

"Honestly, I think it's best if you just talk through it with her." Duke advised. "I can't speak to how she feels now, but I know back then she was suffering because she had to bottle everything up. And don't worry about her not telling you. Knowing the pillowcase, she probably just didn't want to hurt your feelings."

The redhead slowly nodded her head in understanding.

Duke straightened out her posture, her features hardening again. "Once she feels better, maybe we could get out sometime before I go looking for another contract. Go to the mall and make fun of people's outfits like we used to."

Chandler gave a small laugh. "God, we were so materialistic. Not that we aren't anymore."

The conversation continued, consisting of funny stories from old parties and what their classmates have been up to since graduation.

"Heather?" A male voice interrupted.

Both girls glanced up. Chandler didn't recognize the man, so it was clear he was addressing the other Heather. He was wearing a pale blue collared-shirt with a grey sweater and basic blue wash jeans. Rectangular framed glasses sat on his nose.

"Hey, Micheal." The green clad girl gave a curt nod.

"Didn't expect to see you here. I came to work on a piece," He gestured to a messenger bag hanging by his side, "What have you been up to?" 

"I'm between contracts right now, so I came down to visit with some friends. Mike, This is Heather Chandler. Heather, this is Micheal Harris, who's also a journalist but he mostly does online articles."

He extended his arm and Chandler shook his hand, who tried her best not look bored.

With an amused laugh, Micheal said "Wow, I didn't think Heather was that common of a name. What are the odds that you two meet?"

Both Heathers glanced at one another, a knowing look on each of their face. _There's actually three of us, and we have no clue how that happened yet here we are._

"So, Heather," Micheal gestured to Chandler, "What's your occupation?"

She played with her manicured nails while replying. "I work part time as a secretary at F.A.R. Inc."

A monotone "Oh." escaped his lips, before waving his hands frantically and adding:  
"That's perfectly reasonable!"

Chandler gave a short huff of disdain, standing from her seat. Micheal was still a few inches taller then her, but she didn't let that stop her from placing her hands on her hips and staring directly into his green eyes.  
"Thought it would be best to familiarize myself with the company's documents before I take over the company. But I'm sure that's not as impressive to you as it is being some beleaguered artistic soul, is it?"

Micheal shrank away, clearly embarrassed. From across the table Duke started snickering but quickly covered it up by pretending to cough.

"I didn't mean to offend anyone-" His teeth were clenched and he anxiously fiddled with his hands, "Let me make it up to you. There's a new restaurant open downtown, why don't we go grab some dinner?"

Duke shrugged. "I could go for something stronger than coffee right about now. What about you, Heather?"

Despite her cool tone, Heather had spent enough time with Heather to know that the look she was giving meant she didn't want to go alone.

Chandler sighed. "I'll stay for drinks and takeout, but I really have to go home afterwards."

Both reporters seemed satisfied with her answer. The redhead briefly entertained the notion that Duke might like this guy romantically, and wondered what the heck she saw in him. Were his articles really that good? Maybe it was just that he offered to pay for food instead of leeching off of her money instead.

* * *

Pulling into the driveway of her house, Heather checked her makeup in the rear view mirror before opening the car door.

Honestly, the restaurant hadn't been as bad as she thought it would be. After a bit of alcohol Micheal became less of a bore and conversed comfortably with her and Duke. The food looked good too, but she didn't get a chance to eat anything. She decided to take her food home, getting an extra salad for Mac.

As soon as the redhead put one Louboutin heel in the door, loud and hoarse coughs rang in her ears. 

"Heather?" Chandler called, following the painful noises into the next room over.

The first thing she took notice of was the avalanche of tissues basically spilling off of the coffee table. A grilled cheese had been pushed to the side, and it only looked like there was one bite taken out of it.

The blonde slowly rose to a sitting position on the couch, clinging to a fluffy white blanket. "Hey, Heather."

Chandler gawked for a second. Mac sounded much worse then in the morning, her voice nasally and dry. She tried to clear her throat, but it didn't help at all. "How's Duke?"

"She's alright..." The redhead barely heard what she said. She set down her boxes and purse and started walking closer to the sofa to retake Mac's temperature. Chandler placed her hand on the sick girl's forehead like she had before, who tensed a little under the touch.

Pulling her hand away, the heat radiating from her was definitely not normal. "How are you feeling?"

McNamara tried to smile, but it didn't meet her eyes. "I'm okay. Just a little dizzy, that's all."  
Chandler tucked loose strands of hair behind her girlfriends ear, frowning. She knew there was more on her mind.

Another intense cough escaped, before she added in a gravely whisper: "I - I didn't think it would get worse. I thought..."  
She locked her gaze to the floor, messy curls falling to her slumped shoulders. She looked.. defeated... no, ashamed? 

Chandler took a seat on the couch. "Heather.." She took two fingers, placing them under her girlfriend's chin and gently guided it up to face her. "Mac, hey."  
Mac's eyes showed fear. She hated that.

"You don't have to feel bad for being sick. I wouldn't take care of you if I felt I had more important things to do, but I don't because you're so much more important. You know that, don't you?"

She didn't seem entirely convinced, and Chandler knew a conversation was in order. However, her first priority was making sure she was physically okay.

"I brought you a salad," She reached for the small takeout box on the table, "I think eating something will help with your dizziness. I know you probably don't feel hungry, but can you try taking a few bites?"

Reluctantly, Mac picked at the meal. The redhead noted that she probably could've chosen something with more protein, yet the salad was light and was easier to eat. She set the food down when it was half eaten and Chandler didn't press more then that.

"Do you think you can make it to our room?"

McNamara gave a small nod, slowly rising to her feet with the blanket still tightly wrapped around her. With how pale and lightheaded she looked it was hard for Chandler not to worry about her falling over. The stairs gave her some trouble, but she made it to the room and plopped down on the bed, letting out a small groan of pain.

Soon after, Chandler followed with a new box of tissues and a glass of water. Mac lifted her head from her pillow when she heard her girlfriend placing the items on her nightstand. "Thank you."

She grabbed the glass and brought it to her lips, the liquid giving some relief to her sore throat. Chandler changed into pajamas and wiped her makeup off, crawling into her side of the bed.

Heather was facing away from her, shivering slightly even though she was bundled in two blankets. 

"Mac, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to but I have to say this." The younger girl shifted slightly to show she was paying attention, but didn't flip over.

"I read your poem." Chandler started slowly, "I'm worried, Mac. I'm here to talk when you're ready, and I'm not sure if you're pushing me away because of something I did, or something else, but I'm here for you."

"No, it wasn't anything you did at all." Her voice was a bit clearer after the water, but not by much. "It was selfish of me to let you think that."

Chandler's heart ached at those words. "Heather, you don't have a selfish bone in your body."

McNamara curled in on herself, trying to hold herself together. Her voice went quiet again. "Sometimes I get self conscious… It happened a lot in high school too. I thought it would stop now that it’s over, but now instead of telling myself I’m not good enough to be in the Heathers I’m telling myself I’m not good enough to be with you… I wish the voices would stop-" She trailed off, sobs interrupting her speech.

"Come here." The redhead softly beckoned the crying girl.

"I don't want to get you sick..." She managed to say between sniffles.

"Everyone gets sick once in a while." 

Repeating her earlier words was enough to convince Mac to face her. Tears silently fell down her ghastly cheeks, heavy breathing littered with whimpers and hiccups.

Chandler wrapped her arms around the blonde, who nuzzled herself into the older girl's chest. Chandler placed her chin on the top of Mac's head.

"Everyone gets insecure like that, even me Mac. I know I don't show it often... I guess that's some of high school seeping through. You don't have to go through it alone anymore, and you don't have to be upset at yourself for getting vulnerable."

Chandler's comforting words and embrace started to slowly calm McNamara down. Then she had an idea. She wasn't the most confident in her singing voice, but maybe doing something out of her comfort zone was what Mac needed at the moment. Chandler took a deep breath and started singing:

“You are my sunshine  
My only sunshine,  
You make me happy  
When skies are grey,  
You never know, dear,  
How much I love you,  
Please don't take  
My sunshine away.”

Mac briefly pulled away from her girlfriend's hug to stare up at her. "I love you."

Chandler smiled. "I love you too, angel."

The blonde melted into the girl's hold once again, and Heather resumed humming the song. She thought about Westerburg High, about how long Mac had been forced to suffer in silence to avoid being torn to shreds by other insecure teenagers. She thought about her role in that, prioritizing her own social status over Heather's feelings.

But as Mac's uneven sobs turned into steady breathing as she drifted off to sleep, Chandler never wanted the moment to end. 

Being able to make Mac feel comforted and better about herself made her happy.  
And if showing more vulnerability was what it took to accomplish that, then it’s definitely worth it.


End file.
